Silence

Silence deserves to be pondered. In one manner or another, it is our most constant companion. Sometimes it is welcomed, and sometimes it is shooed away. Often we seek it, creating a space, a temple, where silence seeks refuge. Other times we arm ourselves with instruments made to combat it. Silence haunts us; it is always possible, but we do not always know what to do with it.

My neighborhood is urban, quiet, and probably well-to-do. I just moved here, and so we are just now becoming acquainted, my neighborhood and I. This evening, the calm cool night invited me to go for a walk. I explained my intention to the members of my intentional community and slipped out the back door. As my heels lazily grazed the wooden deck steps, I left my house, and I entered my neighborhood. I hoped to be alone, but I expected to be disturbed by the noises of a city: the clicking of passing cycles, and the growl of automobiles out for a late-night joy ride. I was not expecting however, to find silence. It seemed to come from the trees, whose still leaves, glimmered in the artificial light of the street. As I looked up into the boughs above me, silence engulfed my thoughts focusing them intensely inward. The exterior world seemed to melt away, and I was alone, within myself. Silence gave me clarity. None of the problems circulating through my thoughts were solved, but by helping me acknowledge them intensely and personally, silence lightened my burden. I prayed for peacefulness, and before the words left my tongue, a cool warmth wrapped itself around me. I returned home smiling to myself.

Silence scares because it forces awareness. And the silence that comes from those with whom we are in relationship is especially scary because it forces an awareness of what cannot be known. They say nothing, and we want to assume what they may be thinking. Silence rips the bandage from our deepest insecurities, and leaves us wondering if we are truly respected and accepted. The difficulty being that we can never answer this wondering on our own; instead, we must wait for the other to break the silence. Silence filters the noise that distracts, and provides moments of possibility.

Tonight, as I walked into silence, I was running from it. I was running from the silence that hurts and belittles, the silence of enthusiastic ideas falling on deaf ears and mute lips. I left my house understanding silence to be a weapon, and I returned having been healed by it.